


Pointed Desire

by Demmora



Series: Hunger Pangs AU [2]
Category: Hunger Pangs - Fandom
Genre: College AU, Costume Kink, Crack, F/M, Frottage, Halloween, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I can't believe I am doing an au for a book I haven't finished writing yet, Kissing, M/M, Multi, OT3, Voyeurism, and here we are..., hunger pangs au, okay I'm going back to writing the real novel now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 09:11:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8322226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Demmora/pseuds/Demmora
Summary: I have no idea what I'm doing anymore but someone asked for an AU story from my actual novel coming out this year about glow in the dark fangs and here we all are. Vlad, Nathan and Ursula are all living together in their house on campus and they decide to throw a Halloween party. Or rather, Nathan and Ursula do. Vlad is a reluctant participant and he's not too happy about the costume they pick out for him. Until he finds out why. Gratuitous smut ensues. There's no spoilers for Hunger Pangs here, just the ot3 set in a modern human au.





	

It shouldn't work, a fine arts major, a theater major and a sports jock all under the same roof. It's the stuff of sitcoms, but somehow it's the most real and wonderful thing he's ever had. Even if Ursula is currently trying to kill him with glitter.

"I think, I think that's enough sparkle." He says hopefully from his position on the floor.

"You think so?" Ursula asks, crawling over on her hands and knees to his position and resting her head on his shoulder. "What about there?"

He can't see the empty spot she points to, but he obliges her anyway, adding more glitter to the still tacky card and blowing the excess away. They're going to be picking glitter out of the wood grain of the floor for the rest of their natural lives. He's just happy he managed to get her to let him roll up the rug before they started. "How about now?"

She makes a humming sound of consideration close to his ear, and Vlad momentarily forgets his knees are hurting and he's probably got Elmer's glue in his hair and lets the closeness of her wash over him, leaning into the touch. He's still not used to... _this..._ whatever _this_ is, but he finds it hard to be concerned when she plants a kiss to the side of his cheek, nuzzling happily against him. "It's perfect, thank you!"

"Three years of art school finally paid off," he jokes, holding still as she uses his shoulders to push herself up, slipping over the floor in her socks to the kitchen table where her phone is making noises.

"Nathan says do you have a costume yet, if not he's buying something for you right now."

Struggling upright with a crack of his knees, Vlad lets out an exasperated sigh. "Why do I need a costume, why can't I just lurk around being me?" _And make a run for my room as soon as is politely possible and leave you both to enjoy being sociable functioning human beings who like other people..._

"While sad, romantic, skinny goth in eyeliner is a look you do well," Ursula replies patiently, fingers tapping out a reply over her cracked phone screen, "it is not the same as dressing up for Halloween. And you've got to dress up. It's The Rules."

"Ugh, fine." he relents, dropping down onto the couch in resignation. A faint cloud of glitter rises up from his clothes like the fallout from a sparkly apocalypse. "Tell him to pick something, I trust his judgement."

"Fool." Ursula croons fondly, smiling at whatever message pops up on her screen, before turning that same smile onto him. "Oh, you have glitter all over your face."

"I have glitter in my _lungs_ ," Vlad counters with a soft mutter, but not with any malice. He likes making her happy. Whether it's being used as a footrest while the three of them watch Netflix together, or helping her hem one of her many, many costumes at three in the morning before the opening night of a production, Vlad is happy to be useful. Even when it means crawling around on the floor using his brushes to paint Halloween decorations and being subjected to her frankly alarming collection of glitter and sequins.

He grunts in surprise when she appears noiselessly beside him and drops hard into his lap, still texting on her phone. Consigned to his present fate as an item of furniture he wraps his arms round her waist and rests his head on her shoulder, unable to see past the voluminous blonde curls that belong in a renaissance masterpiece. He wants to paint them one day. And with her extensive costume wardrobe (which is the whole of the spare bedroom) it should be easy to find something to match reality with the idea in his head. He's too shy to ask though...at least for now. He's only just gotten over asking Nathan to sit and pose for him, and they'd been _technically sort of dating_ for almost a year before Ursula came back from her exchange trip.

He still finds it surreal how that all worked out. And gets a ridiculous amount of joy out of the fact that the answer to the question 'do you have a boyfriend or girlfriend' is a simple truthful 'yes'.

"What are you dressing up as?" he asks, pressing a kiss to her exposed shoulder.

"I haven't decided yet," Ursula replies, still tapping away at rapid speed. Probably giving Nathan further instructions for what to bring home for dinner. "I have a cloak, I might just be a witch."

"Hm, just the cloak? I wasn't aware we were throwing that kind of party." He laughs when she twists round to swats him, stealing another kiss.

"You wish." She mutters, then twists round again to entreat him to an arch look when he doesn't reply, face going red instead.

"Well," she says sounding a little too smug, but then Vlad likes that too so no matter what he's doomed, "that can be arranged."

 

*

 

"Fangs, really?" Vlad holds the packet up, turning them round to read the back.

"Not just _any_ fangs," Nathan corrects, already elbow deep in scooping out the contents of a giant pumpkin that barely fits on their IKEA kitchen table. " _Glow in the dark fangs_."

He sounds inordinately pleased with himself. He likely is.

"Is this a punishment for not having a costume?" Vlad asks, borrowing the pumpkin knife to break the seal on the package. They reek of plastic because of course they do. They'll likely taste like going to the dentist too. Horrible memories of being fitted for braces resurface briefly before being drowned by more present concerns.

"Punishment?" Nathan frowns, "I bring you home, glow in the dark fangs—have I mentioned they _glow_ yet?—and you ask me if you're being punished. Really Vlad, there are vampires in...where do vampires come from?"

"Greece." Ursula replies absently from her spot on the couch.

"Vampires from Gr—wait, really?"

"I read it somewhere," she says, turning round to give them her attention. "Earliest mention of vampires is Ancient Greece."

"Huh...anyway, no, they are not a punishment for not having a costume." Nathan finishes, having scooped out the pumpkin innards into a bowl, and beginning the process of carving out its face. "That's something else entirely."

It's tacked on with just enough hint of a threat that Vlad feels the jolt run down his spine to his toes, heat flooding through his veins. It's unfair, really, how Nathan manages handle him like that. It's even more unfair that Ursula has also learned to do it, but then if Vlad was interested in _fair_ he wouldn't find it all as intensely enjoyable as he does. Still, he's not to be so easily bribed...

"He was talking about cloaks earlier," Ursula murmurs traitorously, and Vlad shoots her a murderous look, "so he's really not that adverse to the thought of playing dress up."

"I just," Vlad interjects before things can spiral anymore out of control, "don't like people looking at me, at least," he added when he saw the _Look_ the two of them shared that said very clearly they knew otherwise, "people I don't know. And public is different from...from that."

"Oh," Nathan sighed fondly, putting down the knife and enveloping Vlad in a bear hug that lifts his feet from the ground, "my little introvert. It'll be okay. It's just a few hours, and you can lowkey skulk in the shadows like the anti-social wraith you are."

"With my glow in the dark fangs," Vlad replies, hearing the smile in his own voice when he knows what is coming next.

"Precisely." Nathan nods, letting him go, "I mean how else are we supposed to find you..."

It's not a hard punch, but Nathan has enough grace to act wounded.

To add insult to injury, the pumpkin also has fangs. Unlike Vlad's however, they do not glow.

 

*

 

To be fair, they are more comfortable than he thought they'd be. Which he supposes they ought to, given their claims on the back about Hollywood special effects and longevity of life, but still, he's pleasantly surprised by how well they fit and that they don't make him lisp or drool horribly. The glow in the dark part is still ludicrous, but he doubts the flat will actually get dark enough for people to see that. Not if the glitter ball Ursula hung from the ceiling is any indication. Or rather, the glitter ball she'd made Vlad hang from the ceiling because she wasn't tall enough, even while standing on the stepladder.

The dull thud of music starts to vibrate through the walls, and Vlad finishes getting ready just in time for the doorbell to start ringing. His only other acquiescence to dressing up was borrowing a baggy white shirt from Ursula's costume wardrobe to wear under an old waistcoat, and thickening the line of kohl around his eyes. As an afterthought he grabs a paintbrush and jams it behind his ear. It's suitably Byronic, he feels, and it'll give him something to fiddle with if he needs it. Which he probably will. He's not the best at being sociable and smiling at people, and with the fangs in his mouth he's even more aware of feeling awkward.

When he steps out of his room the flat is already overwhelmingly full, but he does his best to skirt around the outsides until he reaches the safety of the punch bowl in the kitchen and assigns himself the job of ladling it out. It's not _needed_ of him, but it makes him feel better to have something to do and it's an easy way of talking to people without actually having to talk to them.

He catches sight of Ursula several times, skipping in and out of groups in a swirl of sequins and crushed red velvet. When she catches him looking her smile is coy and more than a little bit knowing and Vlad finds himself flushing when he realizes he's probably been watching her for quite some time. He's just realizing he still hasn't spied Nathan yet when a pair of faux claws reach around and grasp him by the waist.

"Jesus," Vlad breathes, hearing Nathan's low amused rumble behind him. He jerks when something fuzzy and snout like presses against the side of his neck. It turns out to be an alarmingly realistic wolf mask—no doubt a creation of Ursula's. He can just make out the blue of Nathan's eyes through the eye holes. "Nice ears."

"Thanks!" Nathan sounds genuinely enthused, reaching up to pat at his head with his ridiculously false looking claws. He's wearing a plaid button up shirt and a pair of jeans with a rubber axe strapped to his back. Vlad has to think about it for am moment.

"Werewolf Huntsman?"

"Got it in one," Nathan tells him, tipping the mask back, "bloody hot in there."

Vlad smirks, temporarily forgetting about the fangs, "And you wonder why I don't like costumes."

It takes him a moment to realize what Nathan is staring at, and abruptly closes his mouth. "Told you it'd look stupid."

"Uhm," Nathan says, and Vlad can only assume his costume really has overheated his brain because he's still staring and is beginning to look a little flush. He's just about to ask if Nathan is genuinely all right or if he needs to sit down when Ursula barrels into his side.

"Vlad, Vlad! Come here, I need you to meet someone."

"Uh..."

"VLAD," she says, reaching up to pull his head down to look at her, "This is serious, there's someone from the production who saw your painting in the hall. He wants to know how much it's worth."

Vlad blinks down at her, "The..what painting in the hall?"

It's only then that he looks up at the walls, and sees past the glittery display of homemade decorations and fake bats and spiderwebs and realizes what they've done. _Well, that explains the hammering._

"You. Put." he begins, feeling the anxiety start to rise "My. Art. On. The. Walls. Without asking me?"

"Only a few," Ursula says, fixing him with a wide side-eyed glance and biting her lip like she's remorseful. She's not, he knows, not even a little bit. "The walls were just so plain...and how was I to know Tammy's husband likes to collect art..." she bats her eyelashes at him in such a look of convincing meek innocence Vlad nearly wants to stand back and applaud. Almost.

"Ursula."

"Look, you can scold me later, but right now there is someone standing in our hallway who wants to buy your Constellation piece and he asked how much it was and I said I didn't know but I thought it was worth $500 but it might more, and he just _nodded_ , Vlad. HE NODDED. So please, _come on._ "

He lets himself be dragged away from Nathan who accepts the ladle from Vlad, still not quite copacetic.

He's halfway down the hall before her words fully connect. " _Five hundred dollars_?!"

 

*

 

In the end, he somehow ends up selling it for $650. He'd tried to offer it for less, but between Ursula talking him up (he should really hire her as his agent) and how long he spent painting it (several months between other projects) and the cost of blue paint, Vlad had soon found himself a mere bystander to his own success as the older man pulled a checkbook out of his pirate costume (who does that, who carries a checkbook in their Halloween costume?) and wrote him a check there and then.

Which is what he is staring at in the relative solitude of the back hallway with a tight fluttery feeling in his stomach when he feels strong hands wrap around his waist, pulling him backwards into Ursula's costume room.

"Wghfk," is all he manages to get out before the door shuts and his back connects with the nearest wall and Nathan's rubbing up against him in that hard, slow grind Vlad loves so much. " _Oh_!"

"Nathan has a confession to make," the room is dark, but Vlad can hear the curl of the smile in Ursula's voice as the lock on the door clicks. It makes his heart leap almost as much as the sound of her voice and the lewd roll of Nathan's hips as he tries to get closer to Vlad than mere flesh and bone will allow. He's only vaguely aware of Ursula making herself comfortable on the armchair in the corner, head tilted to the side as she watches them intently.

"Oh?" Vlad manages to breathe out, another part of his brain shorting out when Nathan finally pulls that ridiculous wolf mask off and starts attacking Vlad's neck with his teeth, working his way up from shoulder to jawbone with hungry biting kisses until he's holding Vlad's head still with both hands, eyes burning into him in the low light of the room.

" _Interview With A Vampire_ was my favorite movie as a teenager," Nathan growls out—actually _growls_ —and Vlad thinks he might melt out of his skin there and then when he leans in and claims Vlad's mouth with a bruising kiss. Until the connection clicks. And then Vlad can't stop laughing. He's got Nathan's tongue in his mouth and he's probably going to choke to death, but he can't stop laughing at the absurdity of it. Eventually Nathan is forced to pull back for air and Vlad leans against him gasping and shaking from a mixture of arousal and straight up hilarity.

"Oh my god," he breathes out, " _but they glow in the dark_."

Nathan just shrugs, fixing him with a grin as inspiration strikes. "All the better to see you with, my dear."

It's such a line, it's such a bad terrible line, but then that's what Nathan is. Ridiculous and so serious about it that even the worst line in history becomes the sweetest, hottest thing he's ever heard and Vlad melts into him with an open mouthed kiss that sucks the life out of him. He's pretty certain he's died and ascended several times by the time they part, weak-kneed and panting.

"We can't," he manages around another searing kiss, "there's, people..."

"Better be quick about it then," Nathan informs him, already undoing the fly on Vlad's jeans. His grin is positively filthy. "Quick, dirty and quiet."

And oh god he should argue, he should really argue and be the voice of reason, but there isn't a single part of him that isn't suddenly on fire with want and need and the tingle of doing something naughty and forbidden is enough to push him beyond reason as Nathan's palm wraps around him and Vlad's hips stutter forward, head thrown back in a silent gasp as the tingle becomes a wave strong enough to make his toes curl. " _Jesus._ "

The sound of the party fades in his ears, the world narrowing down until all that exists is the three of them in this room, the sounds of desire heavy and slick between them. It's the sound of Ursula's stifled gasp that does it, forcing him to pry his eyes open to watch her over Nathan's shoulder as brings herself off, pulling him over as she goes over the edge. His own groan is stifled by Nathan's hand over his mouth, eyes rolling back into his head as his body tenses, arching up onto his tip toes and forcing Nathan to push him harder against the wall to chase his own end, which only makes it better. A second wave of euphoria washes over Vlad when he feels Nathan tense, feels the guttural groan against his neck vibrating through his bones, the hard grip on his hip painful enough to leave a bruise. At least he hopes so.

And then the world returns, the sound of music and other people resuming around them like a muted record put on pause coming back to life. It feels like an eternity should have passed, but when he manages to catch a glimpse of the glowing clock on the desk where Ursula sits and sews, he realizes it's only been minutes. Surprisingly it's Nathan who seems to be having the most trouble pulling himself back together, leaning against Vlad until Vlad forces him upright with a gentle guiding nudge. Usually it's Vlad who can't feel his own legs after something like this.

"Y'all right?" he asks, hearing his own amusement when Nathan leans back into him, giant form utterly pliant. "Sue, I think we broke him."

Ursula, already pulling off her underwear and hiding them in a basket of what is probably laundry (hard to tell in a room full of clothes) gives him a salacious little smile. "No dear, I think that was you. But I'll take credit for telling him to buy you the fangs."

As she walks past, already ready to face the world again—sans underwear, Vlad can't help but notice—she pauses and gives them both an affectionate little pat on the head, blood red nails grazing over Vlad's scalp and making him shiver. "Take your time, boys. Mama's got the party under control."

The door opens and closes, and they're left in the relative sanctuary of the dark.

"She's going to kill both of us one day, isn't she?" Vlad asks, watching her go. "She's going to orchestrate some master-plan orgy and we're all going to die."

"If we're lucky," Nathan replies, grinning hazily as he finally manages to perk up enough to support his own weight, running a thumb over one of Vlad's fangs. He's surprised to find they're both still there. "Are they really that bad to wear?"

Vlad thinks about it, running his tongue over them, noticing the way Nathan sways into him again.

"No..." he says slowly, allowing himself to grin, "I think I could live with it every now and then...one minor thing though, Nathan?"

"Hmm?"

"Next time? Take the wolf gloves off..."


End file.
